My love of old homes is born out of intrigue for the stories of the person or family who once lived beneath a particular roof. Yes, I love architectural detail and design as much as I appreciate the fortitude required to undertake a renovation on a grand scale. But it’s the human stories that capture…
My favorite song is “I Can See Clearly Now.” The Jimmy Cliff version. Once when my niece and I were belting out this song in my car, I realized she was singing one of the lyrics wrong. Instead of “I can see all obstacles in my way,” she sang “I can see all popsicles in…
I have always disliked balloons. Whenever I received one as a child, I held onto the string too tightly in fear of it blowing away—aloft and irretrievable. I loathed the sudden sound of it popping when someone at a party, usually a boy, played around too closely—or too mischievously—with a safety pin. I disliked the…
Nothing says Spring like the blooming cherry trees along the Tidal Basin in Washington, DC. I don’t make the hike through the pink blooms every year, but when I do it’s something special. This year I learned that the existence of the cherry blossoms is a story of rejection and perseverance of a lone travel…
In 1969, Virginia Scott, a Charlottesville resident, sued the University of Virginia in federal court for admittance to the College of Arts & Sciences. Her actions made it possible for me to attend the same university just fourteen years later. I never knew her name or heard her story. Until now. As a graduate from…
Some historical figures seemed to have figured out early in life what their purpose on this earth was meant to be. And then they pursued that purpose with dogged determination. Mary McLeod Bethune was one of these people. Not deterred by the social circumstances or lack of money or being told no, Mary plowed ahead…
